Which I guess is fair.
I really haven’t been a good person. Or friend. Or Alpha.
Definitely not a good mate.
Fuck.
I hold my palms out to her, wince at the rough sound of my voice. “Am I interrupting?”
Her brow twitches and she tosses her hair over her shoulder before shaking her head, no. “Just catching up on some research.”
“May I…” I clear my throat, then sigh. “May I sit with you a minute?”
Her brow rises this time, then she sweeps her arm to the empty side of the bench where Zephyr had been seated.
I approach gently, almost on tiptoes in my boots, which is a feat in itself. Then I sit beside her, release a long breath, let myself hunch forward, elbows on my jean-covered knees. Her scent of ozone and Fall leaves is saturated with lilac and the dark cherries of springtime. I have to swallow my saliva, stifle a groan. I do my best to keep my dick from stiffening because now is definitely not the time.
With eyes shut tight, face angled down at the stone path below, I whisper, “I’m sorry, Nyx.”
It’s a beat before she answers. “For what?”
“For not being there for you,” I breathe. “For failing at being your Alpha.”
“Are you sorry because you think you were wrong or because you know Zephyr and I have mated and it pisses you off?”
Ouch.
Fair, but ouch.
I straighten, turn to her. “Both.”
She lets out a small huff. “At least you’re being honest.”
“I…” My eyes close again as I search for the words. “I pride myself on being strong. Protective. And that’s why I stayed away.”
When I look at her again, she’s nodding. “It’s why we all have.”
Right. Fucking Laurant. Who can forget about that dickhead?
She laughs at me, and I realize my expression gives away my distaste.
“There’s a reason we’re fated for each other, Erich. All of us.” She rests her palm lightly on my forearm, and the contact of her skin makes my chest rumble.
A purr. Holy shit, I’m trying to purr.
Nyx lets out a small gasp, but doesn’t remove her hand. And I hold out my other arm, coaxing her near.
Her hesitation is like a knife to my heart, but she does come closer, slow, tentative. And when her head leans against my chest, I wrap my arms around her, hold her tight, my purr growing loud, the vibration increasing enough I can feel it course through Nyx’s body.
She sighs, leans into me, and wraps her arms around my middle as I rest my chin on top of her head, stroke her long hair with one hand.
We stay there for a long time, gently rocking on the bench in each other’s arms, until her scent grows stronger, invading my senses.
I still the second a whine escapes her chest, followed by a pained sound. I pull her from me, hands gripping her upper arms so I can examine her as she grips her abdomen and groans.
“What… what’s wrong?” I ask in a rush.
Have I hurt her? Has my purr done this?
